


Say It When You're Sober

by ottosrvnge



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cigarettes, Consent, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Drinking Games, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, England (Country), Feelings Realization, First Meetings, Fluff and Angst, Flying, Friends to Lovers, Hangover, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Internal Conflict, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Minecraft, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Overthinking, Past Relationship(s), Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred, Tequila
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:14:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28977222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ottosrvnge/pseuds/ottosrvnge
Summary: "Women are always trouble, men are way simpler," George could feel the tequila warming his insides, making the controls feel a little further away, he didn't know if he'd actually ever told Dream he was into men. He didn't even really care at that point, he was focusing on not falling into lava pools."I think you would be simpler, easier- jus better, you know. You'd be great, Georgie." Dream wasn't even playing the game anymore, George turned his head to look at him and caught his eyes- just staring at him, like he wanted to eat him./Dream gets a girlfriend and nearly forgets about his visit to George
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 144
Collections: you've read this fucker :]





	Say It When You're Sober

**Author's Note:**

> TW NEGATIVE SELF TALK & ALCOHOL

Dream got a girlfriend, a wonderful, amazing, incredibly hot girlfriend. George should be happy for him, his best friend's happy and having sex he has to hear about in excruciating detail. He really should, but it was hard when he felt his stomach twisting everytime she was mentioned. It was even worse that Dream hadn't even mentioned their plans, hadn't bought his plane ticket, hadn't done shit for the two weeks they'd had planned for six months. All he talked about was that girl George refused to even learn the name of. She was infuriating- actually Dream was infuriating. 

Immensely infuriating. 

George never thought he was that much of a clingy friend, he was usually fine when his friends got partners. He was jealous of her- that she was taking away his friend. That the flirting on stream didn't flow as well, that Dream didn't seem to be flying to see him anymore or even asking about him. He hated himself for it. Hated Dream for it. 

It was two days until their visit was supposed to be, two days for Dream to remember the thing they'd been talking about forever. George was simmering in his lonely rage, feeling cold and shaky everytime he thought of it. Dream hadn't even bought his ticket. 

"Oh hey, George do you wanna see the cutest picture of me and-" 

George deafened the call, knowing he was probably hurting Dream's feelings but he could not care less about Dream's stupid girlfriend. He felt his stomach drop, reminded that Dream had forgotten about him entirely. It was annoying. He couldn't bring it up without being clingy and annoying, and Dream couldn't stop bringing up the most annoying and withdrawn subjects. Subject. 

The soft ping of his computer brought him back, Dream had messaged him. It was a photo of her and Patches, it made his blood boil in the most unappealing way. She'd seen his face before George. Seen his dick before George. Not that George had any plans to see Dream's dick, or hear his moans, or feel his hands. It just bothered him that this girl had seen all of Dream in just three weeks when George had been waiting years. 

He undeafened the call, not bothering to listen to Dream who hadn't even noticed he was gone, "Did you buy your ticket yet?" 

Dream had gone silent, George winced at the malice that came dripping off his words. He had a right to be angry, though. He was well within his rights to be a little rude. 

"Shit. I can buy it now. What day am I coming?" 

"Friday." George hated it. Dream had really forgotten, completely forgotten him. Replaced him with some girl. It was ridiculous, it felt so fucking crushing. 

"Oh. That's-" 

"Yeah. Two days." George could hear how pathetic he sounded, anger outweighed by the weak sadness in his voice. They talked about it everyday for six months, and Dream didn't even care about it. 

"Can I bring M-" 

"Dude. No. You didn't even want Sapnap to come. Just us, remember? I don't even have the flat space, there's one bed and a shitty couch." 

"Ok, but-" 

"Whatever, I have to go do laundry." George hung up before Dream could say anything else to make him feel worthless. 

He didn't have to do laundry, the only dirty clothes he had was what he was wearing. Everything in his flat was obsessively cleaned. Prepared for Dream. He really scrubbed everything down everyday for a week for someone who didn't even remember. Pathetic. 

Dream probably wasn't even going to come anymore. Too busy with his girlfriend to see George. 

Six months. Six months they'd had this all planned. How could Dream forget about it the week of? What an asshole. George wished he didn't want Dream to come anymore, wished he could be petty and mean about it, but he'd still kill for Dream to be with him. 

He hoped Dream felt bad. Even if it was an awful thing to wish, George felt like he deserved to feel bad. He forgot. He should feel terrible. 

Tears fell from George's face, he almost didn't notice how shit he felt. Dream forgot about him. He was sobbing into his mattress, cursing himself for being so dramatic, so clingy. What did it matter if Dream didn't come this time? He could fly out in a month or two. If he remembered. If he even cared. Fuck. 

Was George always just a placeholder for someone better? That would be so fucked up, his best friend only cared about him until someone prettier came along. She wasn't even prettier than him. Surely not. Maybe Dream just didn't think he was pretty, maybe they all were just jokes, making fun of him. Dream was just making fun of him for years. And he thought they were friends- best friends. How pathetic is he? 

He fell asleep, sobs forcing out all of his energy as he ignored the persistent notifications from his Discord. Head close to bursting and body shaking, he woke up. Almost flying into another fit as George remembered that his best friend didn't care about him anymore. He fought it down, only letting a few stray tears fall, as he checked his messages. 

"George"  
"I'm sorry"  
"It was fucked up of me to forget"  
4:13 P.M.

"I really wanna see you"  
4:47 P.M

"I love you, Gogy"  
"I'll let you beat me at manhunt a million times if you forgive me"  
5:22 P.M 

"I do really want to see you"  
5:52 P.M 

"Do you still want me to come?"  
6:43 P.M. 

George let the warmth of the messages fill his insides, choking down the violent sobs that were threatening to return. He typed out a simple 'Yeah, come' before adding a quick 'If you want to.' 

Dream sent him a screenshot of the plane ticket. He was going to arrive early in the morning, guess those are the only flights available so last minute. George willed himself back to sleep before he started crying again. He didn't understand why he felt so wrecked, Dream was coming, that's a good thing. 

George avoided talking to Dream until Friday, making excuses to get out of streams and leaving Dream on delivered. He wanted to forget how much he hurt before Dream got there. Cigarettes helped. First pack he bought since Eleventh year, he didn't even need to scout out adults to buy them for him- he was a grown man. The smell comforted him, reminded him of his teenage friends- how stupid he used to be. He wondered how they had turned out, regretting kissing his old best friend, maybe if he didn't get that drunk before going to Uni they'd all still be close. 

George felt fine enough to pick up Dream on Friday, studying the ticket to figure out which terminal he'd end up in. He wasn't going to breakdown, he wasn't going to get mad or sad, and he was going to be the picture perfect George. Couldn't risk Dream think he was actually as clingy and weird as he was last time they talked. 

"Hey, I'll be outside terminal 8."  
"I'm wearing a bright yellow hoodie"  
"Actually it might be green"  
5:40 A.M.

Dream didn't land for another 15 minutes. George pulled his jacket tight against him, lighting a cigarette as he leaned against his car. He'd gotten his license in just three months, so he would be prepared to drive Dream and him around. Dream hadn't done anything but buy his ticket- late. George didn't let himself think about it, resorting to inhaling obscene amounts of tobacco instead. Not letting his nicotine buzz waver for a moment. 

"I didn't know you smoked." George looked up, he could recognize Dream from his voice alone. He was wearing George's merch, and George could see his face. His real face. God, he was so beautiful. George felt a smile spread across his face, but stifled the urge to pull him into a hug- he didn't want to be too clingy. 

"Just started, again." 

"Lung cancer pog." 

"You're such an idiot." 

Dream's smile was something to behold, as were his lips and his eyes and his hands. Everything about him was so perfect. Way better than any of the cropped photos George had seen. He was truly beautiful. 

"Your hoodie's green by the way, it's the one I sent you." 

It wasn't natural yet. They were both walking on eggshells, Dream was way more obvious with it though. George could hear the biting hesitation in his voice and was determined not to be affected by it- he was not going to be eggshell fragile. 

Dream played his music through George's shitty car stereo. They were getting more comfortable, more natural. Good, George needed to be the perfect best friend. They got Nando's carryout, the smell of chicken and peri-peri filling the empty space in George's car, it made it all feel more real. 

George forgot to clear out his dirty dishes and take out the trash, he noticed everything wrong with his flat hoping Dream wouldn't think he was gross. He turned on the TV on the off chance that the noise would be distracting enough for Dream to ignore the filth of two day's worth of dishes and trash. 

"You're so clean," Dream laughed, siting down to eat his chicken wrap. "Better Homes could put you on the front cover." 

"I don't think it's quite grandma enough for them." George released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. His fingers and legs shook, yearning for another cigarette.

They joked together for a while, watching whatever was on the TV and falling into their comfortable repertoire. George missed this. He got to see Dream's reactions to his jokes, he got to touch him. It was heaven. Until Dream got a call. His girlfriend, of course, she'd even intrude in George's home. 

Dream left to George's office to take the call, leaving George to feel his organs turn to cement. He lit a cigarette, lips shaking as he sucked on the end, begging it to make him calm down. He needed to act normal, he needed to not be clingy, he needed to be comfortable. 

George flinched when he heard Dream yell, nearly burning himself. He couldn't make any words out, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was the problem. That Dream was only doing this out of pity and his girlfriend was just as annoyed at George as Dream was. He was too clingy, too pathetic. 

"Fuck you, he's my best friend! You don't own me, I don't have to pa- fucking compensate you for seeing my friend!" 

Oh. 

When Dream came back out, he looked worn out. He sat back where he was on the couch and motioned for George's cigarette. George passed it to him, their fingers brushing for just a moment. He didn't know how to assess the situation. 

"Your girlfriend seems..." 

"Yeah, I know." Dream leaned his head back, exhaling the smoke like he'd been doing it forever. George felt guilty for the spark of arousal it brought him. 

"Are you alright?" 

"Peachy." 

"Do you wanna play minecraft?" 

Dream smiled, George could see some of the tension dissolve as he nodded. Thank god. They started a survival world, Dream got the idea to make it a drinking game. Every death, is a shot of the tequila rose George had in his freezer. 

"I love you, man. I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you, M-" 

"It's okay, Dream, I'm not worried about it." 

"Yeah, she's just a lot." 

"Women are always trouble, men are way simpler," George could feel the tequila warming his insides, making the controls feel a little further away, he didn't know if he'd actually ever told Dream he was into men. He didn't even really care at that point, he was focusing on not falling into lava pools. 

"I think you would be simpler, easier- jus better, you know. You'd be great, Georgie." Dream wasn't even playing the game anymore, George turned his head to look at him and caught his eyes- just staring at him, like he wanted to eat him. 

"I- Dream. I'm not going to be a mistress, if that's what you're implying." George tried to play it off as a joke, but he was too drunk to stay cool with Dream staring him down. 

"I'll break up with her, I don't like her much anyway." Dream inched closer, nearly climbing on top of George. 

"You're drunk." 

"So?" Dream was mere centimeters away, his voice low and compelling, he was on top of George, fully straddling him. George could hear his Minecraft avatar dying in lava, and he could practically feel the heat of it. 

"I ca-"

Dream kissed him, lips soft and violent as they consumed George's. George couldn't help but kiss back, the tequila making more of the decision than him. He wanted this. He needed this. He'd dreamed of this. Fuck. It was heaven. But he couldn't. George pushed Dream away, cursing himself for ruining it but standing his ground anyway as he kept Dream as arms length. 

"Dream- Clay, you're drunk. You don't want this." 

"I really do, George. I've been thinking about it forever." Dream tried to move in to kiss him again, George stood up feeling dizzy as his gravity shifted away from Dream. 

"Say it when you're sober." 

George brought out the pillows and blankets for Dream to sleep on the couch with, amazed at how much time had passed already. He watched as Dream passed out almost immediately, trying not to think about the words he'd said. He was drunk, they didn't mean anything. 

It couldn't have meant anything. George couldn't stop thinking about it. The way Dream tasted, how he felt, the little sounds he made into George's mouth. It felt wrong to get off to the memory, his hand around his cock and chasing the feeling he'd had when Dream was settled on top of him. He could blame the alcohol for the strangled cries as he came all over his hand and stomach to the thought of his best friend's drunken mistake. Fuck. It was just because of the tequila. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

Inappropriate drunk kisses are deadly, they'll leave you isolated, addicted to nicotine and broken. He really hopes he didn't just fuck everything up. He shouldn't have kissed Dream, he should've moved away faster. God, he's going to lose him. Dream's going to think he's disgusting, a pervert, a fag. Fuck. He can't do that. Everyone would leave him again. George would break. Fuck. Dream will hate him. He ruined everything. 

George woke up to Dream yelling on the phone again. His head was strangling his brain and he could feel dried cum sticking uncomfortably to his stomach. Fuck. He kissed Dream. Dream kissed him. He jacked off to it. Fuck. He ruined everything. 

"Baby, baby. I swear nothing happened. What? You don't trust me? We didn't even go out, we drank in his apartment. You're not listening to me. No, You're not listeni- Fuck, Whatever. Remember to feed Patches for me, ok?" 

Dream didn't remember. Or he didn't want to remember. It didn't mean anything. Just because they were drunk. 

"Georgie, that you?" Dream called from the living room, obviously hearing George fall unceremoniously out of his bed. He was naked, barely covered with his sheets. 

"Yeah, gimme a minute." 

George pulled on a pair of boxers and a hoodie, making his way to the painkillers. Dream pointed to the kitchen counter where there were three Tylenol set out, a glass of water, and a bagel. 

"You got breakfast?" 

"My payment for jumping you last night." 

George choked a bit, "You remember." 

"Everything." 

He didn't seem freaked out or anything, just resolute, eating his donuts and completely at peace with that event. George didn't understand how he could be so calm, but decided not to say anything. 

"Are you still feeling sick?" 

"Nah, I'm good now."

"Kiss me, then." 

George coughed, sure his eyes were bugged out of his head. "I- Dream." 

"You said you didn't wanna be a mistress, you're not. You said say it sober, I did." 

"You really broke up with her?" 

"She's just a cat-sitter now." 

"You're not conning me?" 

"Wouldn't dream of it." 

George wasn't sure what to think, so he didn't. He kissed Dream like he was his only source of oxygen, letting out every frustration of the past month into Dream's lips. Every insecurity, every wave of jealousy, every tear, every cigarette. He really hoped he wouldn't fuck everything up. Or that Dream wouldn't fuck everything up. But he couldn't let himself think beyond that moment, that kiss. That was everything.


End file.
